


Natural Disaster

by lexiestark



Category: Original Work
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Implied Sexual Content, Mild Language, self-narrative
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-14
Updated: 2014-04-25
Packaged: 2017-12-15 00:19:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/843132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lexiestark/pseuds/lexiestark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nina Carter is a young journalist trying to make it in New York. Being from a small town and raised by rigid parents, she never took any chances in life, other than moving for college and work. She’s the typical romantic girl, and needs for everything to be planned out before it happens. That is until one day she sleeps with her ex-boss, and finds herself quite liking this new version of her when they engage in a sort of “friends with benefits” situation. But since the “friends” part clearly doesn’t work with Ryan’s dredful personality, how long can the “benefits” live for?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! This is my first original in English, so I'd love some feedback. I am working on a lot of other stuff too, so I apologize if this one seems like lazy writing at times, but I'll do my best in characterization and such.
> 
> Dreamcast:  
> Emma Stone as Nina Carter  
> Mila Kunis as Maya Vertawski  
> Richard Armitage as Ryan Granger

– YOU SLEPT WITH HIM? – the voice shouted back at me.  
  
– Jesus Christ, May! Shut up, stop overreacting!  
  
– Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know it was perfectly normal to sleep with your boss! – she shot me an ironic look.  
  
I then took another sip of my smoothie and looked up at her with a coy smile.  
  
– Ex-boss.  
  
It's true. I slept with my boss. Well, ex-boss, as of twenty-four hours before. Ryan and I always had that "sexual tension" thing going on, but it was never more than innocent work flirting. Until he fired me, and, for some reason, that made him irresistible to me and I just had to have him right there.  
  
It wasn't his fault, me getting fired. There was some financial cutting in the company and I, as the not-much-useful-do-it-all girl, was one of the first ones to get cut. But it was a decision made by people in a much higher position than him; he simply had to be the one to let go the employees in his department. You know that saying, don’t _kill the messenger_? Well, nothing's ever been said about having sex with him under his desk.  
  
I realize how that makes me sound – and not just to the eyes of Maya, my best friend of ten years, because she will overreact to anything at all – but I don't actually regret it. I'm sort of glad I was set free of that dead-end job, because now I can go on and actually pursuit my dream of being a journal writer instead of serving coffee and printing copies. Plus, I got to sleep with one of the hottest guys I've ever met without having to stick around and become the office slut. Because old white men are classy and judgy like that, so I'd be sure in for even more diminishing glares.  
  
– Well, Nina, I guess it all comes down to the fact that you got fired. And you've only been graduated for half a year.  
  
– I'd rather look at it from the perspective that I got a job while still in my third year at college.  
  
– I know, I know, I'm not trying to diminish your achievements. I'm saying that now you have a diploma. Finding a job and pursuing your dream will be even easier.  
  
– Fingers crossed – I smiled sincerely at Maya and stood up, strapping on my bag – And the dream chase starts right now.  
  
– Oh really? What are you up to?  
  
– Dying my hair red, buying junk food, and going home to my bed – I gazed at Maya as she laughed.  
  
– Not a surprise. Have fun, dear.  
  
On my way to the beauty parlor in the subway, and when already sitting there as the hair stylist analyzed my wet brown curls, my mind wandered back to the beautiful Friday New York just had the day before. It was as sunny as it could be, honoring the June summer. Not the typical cliché day to get fired. Not that my firing was in any way typical, though. I played back in my head that moment, the moment where I was just eager to go home and rest for the whole weekend before coming back on Monday, but Ryan called me in to his office to say I wouldn't need to return at all. Maybe this would help me figure out why I threw myself at that man like the world was bound to end. Or was I really the one who'd started it?  
  
I was tense and curious, but I already knew what was going to happen to me. Financial crisis always bring this, and my job was the least important in there. Ryan saw that written all over my face when he sat in his chair, in front of which I had already settled down.  
  
– Miss Carter... You know why you're here, don't you?  
  
I bet it was his accent. His stupid, perfectly sexy English accent. I always had a huge drive about it, but when he said comforting things to me in that  _freaking_  accent, that's when it really slipped out of control.  
  
– Guess I do – I tried to sound indifferent while grinning up a smile.  
  
– Well, there's no easy way to do this – he showed a comforting smile, fixed his suit and kept talking.  
  
What's funny about Ryan is that he's not at all that classic British guy. Living in America for so long has certainly been responsible for him acquiring that "manwhore" persona that us girls don't even imagine existing overseas. He kept the accent though, that bastard. You can see he doesn't try even the slightest to wear it off, because that way he'll get more ladies. He also kept the impeccable tailoring that comes with rich British men. It's almost as if it was physically impossible for him to dress casually.  
  
– ...so, for those reasons, we're gonna have to let you go.  
  
I immediately looked up from where my eyes were fixed; the knot in his tie. My green eyeballs stared shockingly at his blue ones, mostly for the realization that he had been talking and I had been going over the layers of fabric he was wearing. But, also I guess, because what I was only about eighty-percent sure of really happened. Like I said before, it was a dead-end job anyway. But I thought I'd valorize it a little more to the eyes of my boss, who so cherished the magazine he one day hoped to own.  
  
– This is a dead-end job for you – he uttered when my eyes fell back to my lap, as if I was still drinking in the news, and that immediately caused me to shoot him with an ever more shocked look. Did he actually just say that? Seriously? Ryan then cleared his throat and brought his voice tone down a bit. – Sorry about that. I mean... This is a great company. It's  _too_  great, even. Which is why I think you're too talented for it.  
  
He probably paused to give me a space for shouting at him for being so phony or something like that, but I used the moment of silence to make clear that I had not understood anything at all from what he just said. How is one too talented for a great company? Because up to that point I thought Ryan saw Finance Magazines as the definition of perfect.  
  
– I'm not sure what you mean? – I squeezed my eyes at him.  
  
– I'm sorry – he shook his head and brought his chair closer to the table. Sorry for what? Firing me or distracting me with all your assets? – Let me start over. Finance Magazine is a very traditional work environment. And, in a way that's good, because our position in the market is defined and guaranteed. But as we get new workers here, it's hard for us to adapt to such "young minds"...  
  
What an asshole. Do you know how old Ryan is? Thirty. Freaking thirty. Eight years older than me and the guy thinks he gets to call me a "young mind". Anyways, then he proceeded to tell me a bunch of actual bullshit about how difficult it would be for the "new generation" to succeed in that old company. How I was really talented and therefore should apply it in a different place, because there, there were too many older workers who were most likely to move up in the company – and yes, he considered himself one of them. But do you know what the worst part of all that is? I wasn't getting mad at those words. Hell, I wasn't even listening to them. His ridiculously tight plaid shirt seemed  _way_ more interesting.  
  
Alright, none of it matters now. In fact, my hair was literally the only thing to care about at that moment. Lee, who had been cutting my hair ever since I moved to the city, was rambling on about his latest shenanigans in getting a boyfriend, while I just smiled and nodded for once. He was finishing off the trimming and starting to dry my hair, before turning my light brown into a full-diva marooned red. I'd never taken many chances with my hair before. It had always been fringe, no fringe, kind of shorter or kind of longer. But lately I'd been in the mood for a change, and I always wanted to be a redhead, so I figured, why not? Now I'd be a redhead who can't afford the bills. Total change.  
  
Scissors. Hair dryers. Hair brushes. Hair clips. Hair paint. Salon gown. Ryan. Wait, how did I get back to Ryan from "salon gown"? Right, because the gown was plaid. Oh, how happy it made me to see that plaid shirt on the floor. Turns out there _was_ a place where it looked better than on him.  
  
– Well then – Ryan cleared his throat and got up from his chair as I did as well. He made his way around the table, and as I got the bag from the back of the chair and strapped it on, I turned to face his most seductive possible grin, as he took out his hand.  
  
– Don't you think smiling is a bit too much? – I smirked back and shook his hand – You did just fire me.  
  
– I thought we had agreed this would be good for your career – he twitched his face in a confused expression and I smiled once again as his attempt of being nice and looked down, heading to the door.  
  
– Well, I am gonna miss some things about this place. Like when you—  
  
I turned around with a smile, on my attempt of leaving it off at a nice memory, but instead was took by surprise as Ryan closed two distances at once, with the strength and hunger that took over him: the distance between him and me and the one between me and the door. As if it was no surprise, he sealed his lips on mine, and in the next second we were in a hungry kiss. The sexual tension building up in that room allowed me to instantly grant him passage through my lips, and when I first felt his warm tongue in my mouth, my entire body just gave in to the moment. It was a good long minute before he pulled back a bit.  
  
– I've always wanted to do this – he laughed between the kiss, that husky voice echoing inside my mouth.  
  
– Why did you wait until now? Didn't want a harassment law suit? – I asked mischievously as my hands already found themselves inside his jacket.  
  
– Just didn't want to waste my last chance – Ryan pulled back suddenly, triggering me for more. Then, he buried his face on my neck and started kissing it. And that was definitely the moment where I completely lost it. God, that felt good. I'll admit I hadn't been "intimate" with a man for quite a while, but still... He had a way. He had a way to drive all women insane.  
  
Everything was so crazy and unthinkable that only flashes came back to me. His smell, his perfect wooden citric smell that drunken me as my nose heaved on his neck. His skillful fingers, tracing my skin and working off my lacy blouse with precision. My hands tangling onto his hair, as I tried to hold myself together but also enjoyed messing up his always impeccable hairstyle. His thin lips placing repeated kisses all over me. My eyes were closed for most of the time, but the feelings I remembered. The warmth of his body, the coldness of the floor before we rolled up to the carpet. The hotness of him inside me, the excruciating pleasure of his husky voice near my ear. My climax. His climax.  
  
I still cannot believe I did this. My brain truly cannot process the information. I was a normal girl. A freaking valedictorian, for Christ's sake. Small town, valedictorian, practically saint kind of girl.  _Definitely_  not the spontaneous kind. I almost despised the type, actually. I liked to make plans, know how my week was gonna go, stuff like that. Never in my life did I see myself having sex with a guy I'd never been with before, romantically speaking, even if it was something I for some reason had planned out first. Especially in his office. Especially after getting fired by him, for God's sake. What was it that had me sleeping with a guy out of nowhere and then going off to get my hair red, instead of crying for no longer having a job? If I could sum up my last week in a sentence, I know just the one:  
  
Hormones are a bitch.


	2. Chapter 2

"Why didn't you write me? Why? It wasn't over for me, I waited for you for seven years. But now it's too late."  
  
"I wrote you 365 letters. I wrote you every day for a year."  
  
Oh, crap, the tears. I can feel them building up in the corner of my eyes. When they roll down, I'm angrier at myself than ever. This is like the fiftieth time that I am watching this movie. Why am I crying? I know that they end up together! So I just close my eyes and shake my head, sending the tears away. I open them again and spot the popcorn in my lap, starting to eat it frenetically. And just like that, I have changed from "desperately needy single girl" to "forever alone nonchalant weirdo".  
  
It's been a week since I was fired, and I've done nothing about it yet. Not that I'm not enjoying the waking up late and doing random stuff all day. But, you know, maybe I should start looking for a new job sometime. It's like Maya said, my resume is quite impressive for someone my age. Still, I feel like I can spoil myself just a little bit, considering this is the first time I've had free days in five years. Before I could focus back on the movie, Maya's picture lit up my phone, and I reached for it to answer the call.  
  
– No – I said immediately.  
  
– Wow, how polite! – Maya replied sarcastically – You don't even know why I'm calling.  
  
– Because you want me to go out with you tonight – I continued to chew the popcorn while waiting for my assumption to be proved true.  
  
– Um, no! I'm calling to know how you're doing.  
  
– I'm doing fine.  
  
– Fine?  
  
– Yeah – I replied, and Maya laugh.  
  
– Well, then you can come out with me tonight.  
  
– Hmm... I'm pretty sure you know the answer to that.  
  
– Ugh, Ninaaa! You never, ever, ever go out with me! – Maya cried, causing me to roll my eyes. One of these days she'll be crowned Queen of Drama Queens.  
  
– If that's true, then why is your picture when you call me one with you completely drunken, that I took myself? – I smirked, remembering the moment.  
  
– Okay, first of all, you promised you'd delete that. And secondly, that's from the last time you went out, which was like a year ago. You turned me down the last five times!  
  
– I did it because I was busy at work!  
  
– And now you're busy with what exactly? – Maya inquired.  
  
– With enjoying my freedom, thank you very much.  
  
– Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't know you were enjoying your freedom, cause if I did I would have never asked you to go with me to such a repressing environment as a place full of music, booze and hot men!  
  
– You know how much I like staying at home – I frowned.  
  
– Please don't tell me you're watching  _The Notebook_.  
  
– Jackpot – I laughed as I stated the obvious.  
  
– Please don't tell me you're gonna try and convince me to go there with you instead of going out.  
  
– No, because I never do that. You come by because you want to.  
  
– Because you make me feel guilty!  
  
– Guilty about what? Admit it, you like my kind of plans as well.  
  
Maya let out her famous loud laugh. She was always that person who'd sniff for parties; parties of any kind, thrown by any person, happening anywhere in the city or near it. But the thing is, she likes cozying in as well, she just won't admit it. She says she doesn't want to be – and here I quote the many times in which I've heard a version of this – "that loser who sits on a couch and does nothing while some amazing people are partying somewhere out there".  
  
And half an hour later, there she was, using the spare key to get into my house. I didn't even bother to get up – especially because, contrary to what Maya claimed, I had not invited her there. She practically forced a serious expression when walking into my bedroom and then dropped her purse on the armchair, sitting in front of me.  
  
– Come on – she took out her hand and I needed to roll my eyes before taking it – We're at least going to the store down the block.  
  
– Ugh, fine – I then let her lead me off the bed and reached for my wallet in the counter. – Aren't you gonna ask me to change my clothes?  
  
Maya looked down at my light-gray sweat suit as I strapped on white sneakers, and smiled.  
  
– I know you won't.  
  
So there we went, to honor our ritual by filling a cart with food at the store down the block. First, we stopped by the DVD rental shop, in which we spent about twenty minutes. We settled for a thrilling sci-fi and a comedy. At the market, we picked numerous kinds of candy, chips, soda, chocolate, wine, and some pasta for when real dinner made itself needed.  
  
– So, tomorrow, we're gonna get you out of your dry spell.  
  
Oh, right, I forgot to mention this. Every time Maya came for a sleepover, she'd claim I forced her to go there – which we've settled I didn't – and therefore I am obligated to go out with her the next night. I don't even fight it anymore cause she's got a  _lot_  of arguments and, also, why would I really? This way we both get to do what we want (when, in reality, we both love both kinds of plans equally and just won't admit it).  
  
– Dry spell? – The look I shot at her asked for further explanation.  
  
– Yes, Nina. You getting some workup last week doesn't make up for the seven months of nothing.  
  
– My God, you keep count of the last time I had sex? – I stared shockingly at her as I pushed the car towards the cashier.  
  
– Well, someone has to! And as the person taking care of your health, it is my duty to find you a mate tomorrow. Don't worry, I'm the best at it – Maya smiled sincerely while putting the items over the counter.  
  
– That'll be $25,83 please – the cashier announced, and I handed him my card before turning back to Maya.  
  
– That you are, May. That you are.  
  
We began with the sci-fi movie and some gummy bears. A part of me started to really worry about my health (not my sexual health, my  _actual_  health), given how I had been spending that day. But it had just been a week of laziness, and I had gone to the gym as usual. After that weekend, I'd start to  _really_  look for a job, and everything would be back to normal in no time at all.  
  
– Hey, you know what? Next weekend I'm free as well, how about we go home? – Maya suggested.  
  
– Great idea! And also, thanks for basically saying I'm not gonna have a job next week yet – I smiled ironically.  
  
– That is so not what I said! Do you want me to hope you have a job that makes you work Saturdays?  
  
– Yes! Those are the good ones!  
  
– Well, not wanting to talk you down, but I don't believe you have much chances of getting a job this week that starts this week – Maya then looked at me and gathered all her strength to remain serious until the end of her following sentence – Unless you get a recommendation from your ex-boss – she then burst out laughing, like a child who just learned their first anecdote. I shook my head while keeping my own laugh.  
  
– You're such an idiot.  
  
– We never really talked about what happened last week, you know – Maya looked serious after recovering from the laughter – Like, how good was it?  
  
– Maybe the reason we didn't talk about that was because when I told you, you kept screaming at me.  
  
– I know! But then I drank in the information, and got really curious.  
  
– Shocker – I laughed briefly.  
  
– Well? – she stared at me, waiting for the scoop on my crazy hormonal incident.  
  
– It was... Sexy – I looked back at the TV and popped a candy in. – I mean... He really knows what he's doing, you know? He's just precise with every movement... Professional.  
  
– Wait, is he the best you've ever had? – Maya looked shocked.  
  
– No! – was my immediate answer, when in reality that was the first time the though actually occurred to me.  
  
– I know what that means. It means he  _was_  the best you've ever had. You're just too scared to admit it because it was a one-time thing – Maya explained, not even trying to sound sharp or defy me.  
  
And she was right. God dammit, she was completely right. I had never before had sex with someone I wasn't in a relationship with, and it scared me to hell that, the one time I did, it was completely amazing. My righteous personality had me continuously looking for the problem in what I did, so it could become clear in my mind that it was a mistake and I could move on. But there was no problem. For once, it felt good not to be in a relationship with the guy, and it felt thrilling that it was not planned out. Maybe it was time to start worrying about brain damage when I just couldn't possibly feel uncomfortable with something that was completely unlike me.  
  
– Hey – Maya called after what must have been about two minutes. – You're "internally freaking out". I hate it when you do that.  
  
– Sorry – I sighed and looked down. – It's just... You may be right. And I hate it when you do that.  
  
– I know, sweetie – she smiled. – Hey, maybe now you'll feel comfortable doing this more often...  
  
– I don't think so, it doesn't feel right. I mean, it does, but that's what wrong.  
  
– Okay, we'll just put some alcohol in you tomorrow and all the thinking will be gone – Maya pulled me closer, making me laugh. Maybe this really is what I need right now. To let go at once.


	3. Chapter 3

– I thought you were performing tonight – I shouted as I put on some mascara, sitting in front of Maya's hairdresser.  
  
– Wow, are you really trying to find excuses for not going out in twenty minutes? – her voice streamed from the bathroom.  
  
– No, I'm just genuinely interested! You're never free on Saturdays – I brought the brush with gray shadow to my left eye.  
  
– Well, I'm free tonight – Maya walked back and stood behind me – I'm a dancer, not a doctor.  
  
I turned back with a smile, knowing she was waiting for my approval of her look. I analyzed the high ponytail in her dark-brown hair, the simple makeup contrasting with her red lips, the strapless cocktail black dress and the nude stilettos, finally giving her an approving nod.  
  
– You look like someone who will attract all looks tonight, congratulations – I smiled and turned back to finish my makeup.  
  
– Right back at you, babe – Maya walked away, ready to leave.  
  
After less than a minute, I was ready to meet Maya in the living room. I took a final look at myself: the red hair I was in love with left loose, my black outlined eyes, salmon-colored lipstick, dark blue lacey dress, that had short sleeves and went down to right above my knees, and the black heels that always worked. Strapping on my golden clutch, I went to Maya at the door and we left.  
  
It was no more than half an hour and we were inside the club, heading to the bar of the VIP area. Maya ordered two tequila shots as I looked around at all the people dancing and talking, and laughing and singing. I then turned to the bar so the two of us could drink the shot, since I needed to get warmed up soon and liked to start feeling goofy soon as I arrived. We then ordered cocktails and found a small table to settle in.  
  
– So, who else is coming? – I asked while sipping my  _Piña Colada_.  
  
– Jay, Ronnie and Lisa – Maya replied, making me smile. They were friends of ours ever since our first year in New York, but because they were always busy with work, we didn't see each other much. It was no more than five minutes before we saw them arriving and walking to us.  
  
– Hey, gorgeous hair! – Jay shouted at me, gazing at my newly-dyed curls, and I stood up with a smile, hugging him – How are you?  
  
– Oh, I'm great, darling! What about you?  
  
– Fabulous as always! – he answered in the voice tone that always made me laugh, as he patted his blond hair – But you know how crazy life can get. Especially life at  _Vogue_.  
  
– Have they sucked all the life out of you yet? – I sipped my drink while staring into his dramatic expression.  
  
– Oh, never! There's too much in me – he smiled before moving on to Maya.  
  
– Lisa, I love that dress! – I stated while me and my friend briefly hugged.  
  
– Thanks! You won't believe this, I paid twenty bucks on a super sale – she proudly ran her fingers down the silver sparkles as I awed.  
  
– Hey, Nina – Ronnie kissed my cheek as I returned the gesture.  
  
– Hey – I smiled.  
  
– Should we sit over there? – Lisa pointed to a corner with a round couch and everyone agreed.  
  
– But only enough till we get drunk, cause I wanna dance – Maya stated, getting laughs.   
  
We always used the first half hour in favor of two reasons: catching up and getting drunk. It was a fun process, really, because as the latest stories in our lives decreased in entertainment, the alcohol level increased, and therefore so did the laughter. We got to hear stories about the crazy people Jay knows all over the city, some complaints from Lisa as her latest engineering project was taking up all her time, and cute little tales from Ronnie's child patients at the hospital. Then Maya went on to share how extensive her training had been the past few weeks, but enjoyable nonetheless. She was able to stand quiet for the few minutes it took for me to give my own update, but was sure to practically shout to everyone that wanted to hear it about the Ryan matter. Thankfully, the other three reacted much more nicely about it – especially Jay, who was beyond excited about this, and here I quote, "new and ferocious inner self I was finally releasing".  
  
 _When marimba rhythm starts to play, dance with me, make me sway..._  
  
– LOVE this song – Jay shouted as the whole group made its way to the dance floor, and then pulled me in for a dance with him. We danced excitedly to the song, and I occasionally stopped to check on Ronnie and Lisa's adorable chemistry and Maya's moves on a gorgeous blond that stole her away.  
  
– Jay, isn't that  _your boy_? – I emphasized the "nickname" and then moved my head towards the right side, after spotting someone I was pretty sure was a guy Jay had been trying to get with for a while. He followed the lead and was awed to check it really was him.  
  
– Oh my gooood! – he squealed. – I didn't know he was coming tonight! Nina, honey, I'm so sorry, but I gotta go – he widened his eyes at me.  
  
– Oh, please do! Good luck babe – I kissed Jay's cheek and smiled when seeing his excitement as he walked towards his crush.  
  
My first instinct then was to walk back towards our table, but the truth is I didn't really want to. It was like I had acquired a "second instinct" lately, that told me to do the opposite of what I thought was right, and I only wanted to follow that one. It hadn't led me anywhere bad that far, so I figured what the hell, and started dancing by myself to the crushing beat. It led me on along the alcohol and I felt completely okay with how that was going, not wanting to ever stop. That is, of course, until I opened my eyes. Because when I realized that a drop-dead gorgeous man had been watching me, I felt like investing on that. With that second instinct now taking control of my whole body, I started stumbling towards the black-haired, dapper and, as I noticed when less than an inch away, ridiculously good looking man, who was just standing like he was waiting for his prize to get to him (you know, women, his prize for being so hot).  
  
– That was great dancing – he sounded out a deep voice, and I looked up with a smile.  
  
– Thanks – I then bit my lip, like a desperate idiot teenager who was just flirted with for the first time. But then, as I already mentioned my body being out of my own control, I jumped forwards and stretched my arms around his neck, and next I knew we were kissing.  
  
He welcomed my lips that almost crushed his, and just after his tongue entered my mouth I already granted myself permission to tangle my fingers within his hair, and dance them around his neck and shoulders. I felt his hands firmly grip my waist as we twisted our heads around, and it must've been a solid minute before my stupid brain realized that that was a complete stranger. I pulled back slowly, as if I needed to apologize for ending the saliva-sharing with John Doe, and smiled awkwardly, regaining my conscious for a bit.  
  
– I'm in love already – he smiled mischievously, and I set free a loud laugh, closing my eyes. There, just like that my "other self" was back. Sometimes I hate how alcohol will make me retarded but not enough that I'll have the sweet relief of not remembering about it the morning after.  
  
– Can I buy you a drink? – he motioned his hand towards the bar.  
  
– Well, considering we just skipped that step, obviously you can – I smiled and started walking, being surprised by his hand around my waist. It felt so good that it gave me chills and I almost tripped before getting to the counter. I know I've made this clear by now, but sometimes I really despise having a functioning hormonal system. Trying to act as if there wasn't a still-stranger-but-also-so-hot-I-don't-mind-not-knowing-him wrapped around me, I took a quick look at the drinks board and smiled at the bartender. –  _Cuba Libre_ , please.  
  
– Scotch neat as well, please – he used his free hand to give the guy a ten-dollar bill, before he turned back to fetch the beverages. Then my recently-acquired partner looked at me and I shot back, right into his brown eyes. – So, since we're doing this the upside-down way, I believe it's time for introductions. I'm Josh.  
  
– Nina – I smiled while still gazing into his eyes. It was no place to shake hands, but we didn't kiss either. Instead, we just smiled, as if proud of the decisions that had led us there. After getting our drinks, Josh, with his arm still around me, led me to a couch on a recluse point, and after sitting down we sipped our drinks.  
  
It was a mutual decision to leave the two glasses on the table after mere seconds, and we only needed a look of confirmation before we locked lips again. It was even better this time, fiery and intense. I didn't even care about the strangeness factor anymore, constantly reassuring my brain that I at least knew his name. And that he was a great kisser.  
  
– I'll be right back – Josh stood up and then pointed his finger at me, biting his lip and smiling – Don't you go away.  
  
After Josh excused himself, I stayed there and roared my look around. I thought I heard Maya's voice scream several "Oh my god"'s towards me, and looked to side to prove I was right.  
  
– Oh my god. Jesus. Okay – Maya stopped and recovered from the running, taking a deep breath and looking at me with an excited look – You'll never guess who's here.  
  
– There are nineteen million people in this city, you bet I won't – I lied my head back and closed my eyes, with no interest whatsoever.  
  
– Twelve o'clock.  
  
I opened my eyes after another ten seconds and followed the instructions. Narrowing my view, I saw that the directions given led me to a woman I'd never seen before. She was wearing an incredibly short yellow dress and shooting a bored look to the dancing crowd. I was about to turn my eyes back to Maya when her yellow-dress-covered waist was involved by a masculine arm that wore a white shirt. Oh, maybe that's who Maya meant. I traveled my sight slowly to the top, not quite sure why, only to find the man's face buried in the woman's neck, not allowing me to see who it was.  
  
Oh, who are we kidding? It's not like I need to fully see Ryan's face in order to recognize him.  
  
– I see no surprises there.  
  
Though I didn't at all expect to see him there, I couldn't actually be surprised. From what I know of him, going out to clubs and picking up girls is nearly a daily activity. And if you couldn't tell by his attitude how much he slept around, he'd do you the favor of letting it slip not so discretely to a co-worker at the end of a meeting.  
  
– Look at it! – she pointed to where I was already looking.  
  
– What? – I asked, pissed.  
  
– It's Ryan!  
  
– Yeah, it's Ryan groping some woman! What do you want me to do, get in the middle?  
  
– Go talk to him! Try to get with him again, why wouldn't you?  
  
– I don't wanna talk to him, we're not friends! And this was a one-time thing, just let it go.  
  
– Let it go? – Maya was shocked. – God, Nina, this is  _so_  unlike you!  
  
– Yes, and that's why I just want to forget it.  
  
– Oh, that I simply won't believe – Maya looked back at Ryan as he walked to the bar, analyzing him head to toe. – Why would you want to forget  _that_?  
  
– Because it was a mistake. Okay? – I let Maya sink in my answer as she looked at me in silence – I know it must offend every fiber in your British-man-loving body to hear this, but it's true. I shouldn't have done it.  
  
I expected some screaming from the Queen of Drama Queens, but instead she just opened up a mischievous smile and looked right into my eyes.  
  
– Look me in the eye and tell me you regret having sex with Ryan.  
  
Sharply enough, I took a couple of steps forward, leveling our sight, and said emphatically:  
  
– I'm having sex with Josh.  
  
And then I walked away. It might sound like I left it off in a bad way, but you need to remember we were both drunk, which kind of makes all of that forgivable. I went back to Josh, who was now by the couch, and engaged a conversation. I felt happy, light, and free. I also felt secure for knowing how the end of that night was gonna go. At least that time I knew who I'd probably end up sleeping with. Or so I thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who want more Ryan (aka fans of Armitage lol), I'm sorry he hasn't been around much yet, but don't worry, from the next chapter on he should be all over the place :)


	4. Chapter 4

The sun hit my eyes, and I instinctively rolled in my bed, hiding my face in the shadow. But the extra hours of sleep were not enough to ease the actual pain I felt when opening my eyes. My head spun around, and all I wanted was to stay in bed all day. I hadn't had a hangover in a really long time. I looked to side and, almost instantly, had flashes of what had happened there the night before. This made my head hurt even more, so I got up and went for a hot shower. After that, I sat by the kitchen table, filled a mug with fresh coffee, and started going over my night, more calmly this time. I just had to understand it.  
  
I had to understand why, why in heaven's sake, did I sleep with Ryan. Again.

*

  
So there I was, walking towards Josh for the second time that night, feeling light and sexy. We ended up on a small table with lighter beverages and finally got the chance to talk. Among my interminable laughs, I was putting to use everything I'd learned regarding flirting maneuvers (I probably sound like a cocky douchebag by now, constantly mentioning all my successful flirting towards Josh. It's just that that is really not like me. Also, we were both ridiculously sottish, so it's not like my job was that hard). There was just one  _tiny_  little problem: Josh was a complete and total asshole.  
  
I won't go into fury details – much because it makes my head spin around even harder to remember all the awful things I put up with it –, but the thing is that the time I spent on talking to Josh was solely to destroy the whole image I had put up of him. Sure, I shouldn't have expected much from the guy who took advantage of the drunken girl, but in my naive little mind I thought that maybe, just maybe, he was an incredibly nice guy who just happened to be driven by the libido that night. But no, no, no. The only thing the was incredible at was luring girls into bed – and here I'd like to thank all sorts of gods for the fact I didn't fall for that.  
  
Luckily I was in my recovery stage when we started talking (I call it recovery stage when I see that I'm verging on shamefully-drunk, and then I fill myself up with soda until I'm sober again), so that I could slip away from Josh's moves. The bad part is that I was conscious enough to have to put up with a lot of shit. And I don't mean like he started to talk about interests that weren't the same as mine, I'm talking "women are merely sexual objects" level shit. Oh, yes, he actually said those words. And maybe I should be paying attention to the context so that now I could deliver the real message truthfully, whatever it was, but I was too busy trying to not smack him in the face.  
  
Anyway, it's not like there was a tip of the iceberg after all. It was just a building-up of horrible conversation topics and the expression of actual pain in my face. At least he noticed it, and didn't try to stop me when I walked away. I just can't understand how did he ever think all that talking was going to work, though. Maybe he was used to take the girl home before there was time to talk, having no opportunities for the poor victim to learn about his beliefs. Or alcohol just had that disastrous effect on him, in which case I guess I should feel sorry. But when I used all of my remaining kindness to talk him off and then left, the only thing I felt was relief.  
  
All my friends had gone home by that point, but I decided to stay a little longer. God knows why, really, because I had no business being there anymore. But my stupid brain was screaming for social lubricant when all I needed was a shower and my bed. So, within ten minutes, there I was poisoning myself to a crushing beat, stirring my glass and thinking about calling it a night, when a shadow-y figure sat beside me.  
  
– Fancy seeing you here. I adore your new hair, by the way.  
  
 _What an interesting choice of words, Ryan._  All polite and holding back, as if I didn't know that in a matter of minutes he'd be switching that for comments on my body. Worst part is that some of it, somehow, worked out for him.  
  
I turned to face him, but didn't bother to open up the proxy smile of running into an acquaintance. I just raised my eyebrows enough that maybe he'd think I was surprised, and held onto my glass for another sip.  
  
– Don't you have some little yellow dress to be chasing after?  
  
Ryan then opened up a wide smile and straightened himself up in the chair.  
  
– Oh, so you've seen me.  
  
I had to laugh at his next movement (and yes, I mean literally laugh out loud. Alcohol had pretty much taken over all of my senses). When he motioned his leg towards me, I got the message instantly. I don't know if it's because I like to observe human behavior or general or because he was making it ridiculously blatant, but to me, his whole body language showed that he was trying his best no to attack me right then. I could've assumed it, too, since I'm guessing he'd naturally have that instinct on me. He did get me pretty easily that day, so with me being completely drunk, it should be a piece of cake.  
  
I wasn't at Ryan's mercy, but I was at my worse judgment in the moment. Did I mention how tight was his shirt? Because while he talked, my eyes kept escaping to it. And we all know where that got me last time. There, evidence number one.  
  
– What do you plan on doing next? – I surprised him by spinning my chair to face him. – Come on, show me your moves.  
  
RIGHT THERE, EVIDENCE NUMBER TWO. I didn't actually shout this out, but I had to take my hand to my face so fiercely it was nearly a slap. How stupid was it of me to say that?  _Show me your moves_? I was acting like I was an old friend of his, which was definitely not the case. It could only go the other way, which was me falling for it. And Ryan's wide sadist smile wasn't helping.  
  
– What, you're jealous you didn't get to have it?  
  
– No, just curious – I turned back to the last sip of my drink, trying to play it cool – which I really was, still. But maybe he was right, and I wanted to be hit at by him. Again, and I can't stress this enough, hormones' fault. And alcohol played a wonderful role as catalyst this time.  
  
– Well, I would, um... – Ryan sat back and shook the ice in his glass, before looking back at me – I'd tell you what a beautiful and stunning woman you are, which is actually no exaggeration.  
  
– And then I'd be all smitten because this amazing guy likes me, and suddenly I can picture our wedding – I breathed out a laugh. – Don't think I don't know your type, Granger.  
  
– Right back at you, Carter – he smiled coyly, requesting a refill from the bartender.  
  
– Oh, really? – I cracked my neck towards his side.  
  
– Yes.  
  
– Then please, enlighten me.  
  
Ryan knew my type? What was my type, even? This I needed to see. He leaned in my ear to whisper, and in that moment I needed more self-control than I had.  
  
– You're the type who despised  _my_  type, until you've had some and now you want more.  
  
Once he could see my face again, all I did was raise an eyebrow. Pride stopped me from jumping in for a kiss, but I couldn't laugh it off either, since it wasn't as funny as it was true.  
  
– All I care right now is whether you're the type who at least buys a drink for the girl he made jobless.  
  
– Still grieving over that? – Ryan frowned.  
  
– No, I just really want a free drink.  
  
– Then you could've relied on the compliment I just paid you – Ryan put a ten over the counter and motioned towards the bartender, so he'd get me another martini.  
  
– Oh, I'd rather not – I fixed a lock of my hair while observing the dance floor – Think I've had enough with the "Finance Magazine Whore" role.  
  
– What? There's no such thing! – Ryan almost sounded offended at the term I'd just used, and I stared into his eyes with the hint of a smile.  
  
– No such thing as me being seeing as whore or me wanting to stop being one?  
  
Ryan breathed out a laugh, handing me a brand new and sparkling glass of martini, which I took thankfully and didn't express in words.  
  
– I meant the first one, but you feel free to think whatever – he replied simply. – But really, don't worry. No one at the office knows about what happened, you're just missed around there.  
  
Instead of replying to that one with words, I shot him a look of certain contempt, only to be caught off-guard by the look I received back. His blue eyes were wide and looking right into mine, his eyebrows arched upwards, and his beautiful pink lips cracked opened. He probably saw my expression wear down as I watched his, and I began to see just how experienced he was in this game. That look was, at the same time, _Disney prince_ for the ladies and _I-know-I'm-gonna-win-this_ for him. The ones waiting for a knight and shining armor probably couldn't notice that second one, but, as I said, I knew his game. It didn't stop me from jumping into bed with him (and twice, at that), but I was still proud of holding that knowledge. And after staring at him blatantly for a bit longer, I realized I wasn't simply watching as he thought he'd win this by the end of the night.  
  
 _He had already won._  
  
See, I knew that with his looks and moves, he had women lining up around them, laughing and playing with their hair as they merely waited for him to invite them home. I had that knowledge as tactical advantage, and moreover I had control over the situation. What I didn't know was that it would build up gradually, as it had in the work environment over the months. And in this situation, sexual tension built up ridiculously faster.   
  
I stroked out of my seat and supported my arms on the counter, closing my eyes and letting my head fall back. What the hell, I'll just say it out loud.  _What the hell_  was something I needed to say more often, anyway.  
  
– I can't believe I'm about to do this...  
  
– Do what?  
  
I didn't see his expression when asking that, but the tone of voice was enough to assure me he had an eyebrow up and a proud smile of conquer. How we got to this point no long mattered, bottom line was both of us knew where this was headed.  
  
– Here's the thing – I stood up straight and opened my eyes, watching as he unmade his expression in order to pay attention. – I just dumped this gorgeous guy I'd get lucky with because he was an asshole. Problem is, Ryan... So are you.  
  
– Yes, but you already have a guarantee it'll be good. And you're holding onto that.  
  
– Holy shit! You're good.  
  
Yeah, I said that out loud. And slapped the table while doing so. How I was seducing Ryan with all of this was beyond me. After he wore down the loud laugh, he went back to serious-but-still-sexy, and this was the moment I shut the thoughts down completely. I was always thinking a billion things at the same time, my whole life had been like that… Never thought I'd find the switch off button.  
  
My lips met his fiery ones right before my hands embraced his neck, as his got strategically placed upon my hips. I can't tell exactly how long it took, but soon we were a messy bundle grinding against the counter, and though I wasn't proud of it, oh, how I was enjoying it. I could understand it less and less why was I so smitten by the type of man I always despised, but then again, as I tasted his mouth against mine and felt him with me, I didn't really want to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no smut agaaaaaaain i was too lazy pls don't kill me kbye


	5. Chapter 5

– Oh, you know what? There's this great song I want you to hear, I'm sending it to you right now.  
  
A few minutes later, the file came through. The song was called  _I Told You So_. I had to laugh out loud at that. How subtle of Maya. She waited ten minutes and then called me back.  
  
–  _I told you sooo, don't wanna brag but you already know, ooooh_  – she sang the chorus, and probably guessed that I rolled my eyes when she didn't get a verbal answer. – So, there's the shocking news of the day! On a related note, my break is almost over.  
  
– Good, then maybe you can get your mind somewhere else other than bugging my ass.  
  
– Yeah, right! – May laughed loudly – Good luck today, dear. Let's meet up this week so I can know how it went.  
  
– Sure, I'll call you!  
  
I considered not telling May that I had slept with Ryan, but she always finds out about these things. Even if she's not directly connected to the ones involved, she has her ways. Plus, she wasn't as mean about it as I thought she'd be. Though our talk wasn't over, of course. I'd still have to hear that she was right a handful of times.  
  
It took some convincing from my conscience, but eventually I got up from bed. After having coffee and playing back to myself last night's episode of “ _Nina and alcohol: a horror story”_ , I crawled back to bed like a little child who wants to skip class more than anything in the world. Not that I was dreading going to the interview I had that day – I was thankful to all sorts of gods that I'd already gotten a chance at another job – I just didn't want to talk about my professional skills while this pain pounded in my head, reminding me of how irresponsible I am.  
  
But now there I was, sitting on the subway and pathetically thinking this over. I did that as I walked, too. Stupid thoughts hammered my mind over and over as I entered the beautiful large building and identified myself to the receptionist, before heading to the elevator. But once I was on the magazine lobby, the only thing my brain screamed about was to give all my best at that interview.  
  
I always had a little  _crush_  on ATM Magazine, so to speak. Balancing news about the political situation in Italy and the latest play on Broadway always fascinated me. And the opportunity that I, Nina Carter, the girl who hates routines, could be one of those who get to write about whatever the hell is going in the world, freedom of speech, freedom of time – and a paycheck! – brought me to the edge of my seat.  
  
– Mr. Heisenberg, this is Nina Carter – the assistant said as she opened me the glass door and motioned for me to go in. My potential new boss looked to be edging on his fifties, but with cool and trendy clothes – already a big change of environment for me. And a great one, at that.  
  
– Nice to meet you Nina, I'm Colin Heisenberg – he promptly took out his hand, which I shook excitedly.  
  
– Thank you sir, it's an honor to meet you – I smiled sincerely.  
  
– Yeah? You follow our work then? – Colin sat down and so I followed.  
  
– Absolutely! ATM has been one of my favorites ever since I moved to New York.  
  
– Well, you know that already puts you way ahead on the list – he joked, having me briefly laugh along. – So, tell me a little bit about yourself, Nina.  
  
– Well, I'm 24 and I'm from Pasadena, California. I've always loved writing and being up to date with what was happening in the world, so it was no surprise when I decided to be a journalist. I graduated from Baxter Hills University about three months ago and I feel like I'm more prepared than ever for a job like this.  
  
– And why do you think you fit here with us?  
  
– Because this mix of "types" of news is how I get by, really. I mean, I use ATM itself as a source news, but other than that I'm like alternating between The New York Times and Vogue. I've always been very eclectic about this, and both these worlds have always interested me a lot. I feel like I'd do great in working at those combined, which is what drew me to this.  
  
– Well, that is great to hear... If there's one thing I love it's passionate people! – Colin looked up from my resume with a smile – You know, I took the liberty of calling your former boss, Ryan Granger, for a recommendation...  
  
 _Oh my god._  I don't even know what to expect from this. Is he gonna be greedy mean because he already got what he wanted from me, or kiss my ass to try and get some more?  
  
– And he said I should absolutely hire you.  
  
I tried my best to keep and impartial face, but Colin might have noticed my eyes growing wider along the weirdo smile I gave before he continued speaking. Oh well, could've just been my very questionable honored-look.  
  
– He said you're very organized and responsible, that you did remarkably at revising articles, and that though you didn't get a chance to have your own published, you were an amazing writer from the work he'd seen.  
  
Wow. Was this really happening? I actually had to hold a laughter at that. Colin asked if I had brought any of my work, and so I handed him a selection of articles I'd done for college, for blogs, or just for fun really. Lots of them were takes on recent news, as I spent yet another day at a dusty corner of Finances Magazine, imagining those were really going to be published somewhere. As Mr. Heisenberg read them over, I went back to thinking about what Ryan had said of me. I'll give in to "organized and responsible", but calling me a good writer implied that he actually paid attention to all those articles I asked him to read, which, believe me, was very hard to believe. He'd just stare at them sometimes at the end of meetings. One time I came into his office and found him actually scribbling over a fifteen-hundred-words about Bin Laden's passing while he chatted with one of his bimbos over the phone. After that I just stopped trying. And now I had no idea if he really meant it or if he was just investing on a future booty call possibility.  
  
– He was right – Colin woke me as he grabbed all ten cardboards with my writing in it. – In fact, I'll even keep them so I can read it all later on.  
  
– Wow, thank you!  
  
– There's something else I always like to know: what do you consider your strengths and weaknesses?  
  
– Um... Well one of my biggest strengths is definitely that I've mentioned before, how I love this whole universe that journalism involves. And I don't mean just staying up to date with news, all that surrounds it just fascinates me, I mean, give me twenty hours of work and I'll do it at the spot... I might be completely worn out at the end but satisfied – I topped it off with a smile, and was glad to see Colin was responding positively as well.  
  
– And your weaknesses?  
  
You mean besides alcohol and British men in suits? Not much, really, but that is one hell of a weakness.  
  
– I think I don't always do so well with unplanned things. If something comes up from nowhere, I might have some trouble with the fact that I don't have it all spanned before I can get to work.  
  
– Well, as much as it's important for a journalist to be organized and have her facts straightened, there will be a lot of situations where we need something written in short notice...  
  
– Yes, I know that. But I've been working on that and I think I've gotten much better.  
  
– Alright then, looks like I've got everything I need – Colin stood up, heading to the door, and I followed. – I'll be sure to give you a call as soon as we've made a decision.  
  
– Okay, thank you – I shook the hand he took out and left the office with my mind empty, feeling like nothing could go wrong that day.  
  
I don't even know how, but the rest of the day was neither occupied by thoughts Ryan nor of the new job. It was like my brain had taken a vacation, and I couldn't be more grateful. I met up with a friend from the early days of college for dinner and a movie, and then got home to the missed call and message:  
  
 _Ms. Carter, hello. This is Martha Cobb from ATM Magazine, I'm Mr. Heisenberg's assistant. I'm very happy to inform that you got the job as junior editor, and you can stop by the office for us to arrange the details of your hiring. Have a great day!_  
  
It might've been childish, but my first instinct was to start jumping around and woo-hooing. I couldn't stop smiling at those news, and even replayed the message another few times. Alright, now I have the job of my dreams. Might be time to start being normal again.


	6. Chapter 6

– Maya, I literally just walked in – I uttered against the phone as I closed the door behind me and dropped my purse in the couch – Will you give me a rest?  
  
– No, I most definitely will not! You just got through your first week of work, you need to loosen up!  
  
– I've already told you, my new job is like a dream, I won't need to be one of those people whose only reason for living is the prospect of getting hammered at the end of the week.  
  
– That doesn't make it okay for you to ditch your friends – Maya complained.  
  
– Why don't you call me later, uh? It's only six thirty. A lot can happen in the next couple of hours.  
  
– Oh, I'm sure it can – Maya laughed – I'll be sending good thoughts.  
  
There was nothing exceptionally good on TV, and so I must've spent about ten minutes sitting by my sofa after kicking my shoes off, not paying attention to anything, until I fell asleep. When I was woken by knocks on my door after what appeared to be about an hour, I jumped up, startled.   
  
– Just a minute! – I stumbled on my feet, passing my hand through my hair as if it'd do some good, and just before I turned the knob I wondered why was Maya not shouting back at me yet. But then I opened the door and found out why. – Ryan? What the hell are you doing here?  
  
– Can I come in? – he opened up his most charming smile.   
  
I didn't want to be rude enough to let him go but also didn't even know what he was there for, so I just motioned my hand for him to get inside. Ryan walked in and took a look around the room, which was a bit weird, considering he'd been there; but then again, at two in the morning while we made out and as he sneaked out the morning after didn't really count as seeing my house.  
  
– I was thinking about calling you, but then I was passing by, so I figured what the hell.  
  
– So what's this about? Did I forget and extra paycheck at the firm? – I smiled as I sat down at one of the table chairs, and Ryan cheekily followed.  
  
– No, this is about the  _other_  relationship we maintain – he answered with the hint of a smile, and I had to suppress a laugh. Ryan might've been incredibly selfish and arrogant, but at least he made laugh with his way of dealing with things.  
  
– Ryan, I am sorry to inform you, but we maintain no relationship whatsoever.  
  
– That's what I'd like to defy. See, I'm here to prove a theory.  
  
– Oh? – I narrowed my eyebrows at the very serious-looking expression. – What theory?  
  
Ryan sat back in a chair and opened up that ridiculous smile of his, fixing his jacket before moving on:  
  
– That, if I want to, I can have sex with you.  
  
 _What the damn hell?_  As I stared at Ryan with a shocked expression, my mind wanted to yell a million things, but I guess that by my look he assumed that, so he already started with the explaining he very much had to do.  
  
– It's not what it sounds. I'm not trying to offend you, please. I just sort of came to this conclusion based on the two times it happened.  
  
– You sleep with me  _twice_  and think you can declare yourself unbeatable?  
  
– I see your point – Ryan twitched his lips, like a teacher who respects your attempt but is about to correct you. – But given the circumstances to which it happened, I like to believe my skills were taken into account.  
  
– Unless you invented alcohol and hormones, I beg to differ – I replied sharply.  
  
– Those are only catalysts – he leaned forward at that, making sure that now not only his well enounced accent was getting to me, but also his perfume and a closer peek at his looks. – They're  _definitely_  not enough.  
  
– So, you're saying that your goal is to sleep with me today.  
  
– Pretty much.  
  
– And do you plan on doing that by just laying out this theory of yours or do you actually have some moves planned?  
  
– I don't know. We'll see.  
  
Did I ever say how much I love observing human behavior? It just fascinates me. How people react differently to the same news, how they treat others, how they like to be treated. Once, in my first week of college, a teacher asked us to attribute three adjectives to a random other person as he picked pairs himself. The girl that sat with me said I had just summed up her in three words, and I'd never talked to her before. Anyway, I think that's also a reason why Ryan made me so annoyed: I couldn't read him at all. There was the obvious, of course, which has been cited – he was selfish, sexy, arrogant, responsible, smart-ass, classy, easy-going, self-centered... But what did he really want? Moreover, what did he want with  _me_?  
  
There was another very threatening problem to this: before Ryan, the only person I' had a real difficulty reading was, well, me. It's so ironic, I'm always able to tell things like what my mom is  _really_  asking about through subtle questions, what Maya will have to say about my latest relationship status, and even what my target public will enjoy reading. But ask me to draw a profile on myself and you'll have me just idiotically staring at you. I've taken countless personality tests and even relied on astrologic sign profiles in order to discover myself, and from that I've put together a speech so that I wouldn't break down and cry at interviews. In conclusion: put me and Ryan together and I lose sight of where this is going. I had no clue whatsoever.  
  
– Okay, what about this, then? – I stood up, speaking clearly to make my case, and nonchalantly walked back to the couch I'd been at earlier – Since you're so talented, I'll give you the challenge of pulling me away from one of my favorite TV shows.  
  
As I turned on the TV, I noticed I'd already missed the first five minutes, which was fine because it was a rerun. I wouldn't say that, of course, because that would mean I was free and up for suggestions – also, I never minded reruns. Binge-watching The Office was always a great plan. It took Ryan no tome at all to sit by my side, and I don't know if it was on purpose, but he kept a distance of somewhat five centimeters.  
  
– Oh, this one's nice – he opened up a smile.  
  
– This show or this episode? – I turned to him.  
  
– The show. I've only seen some random episodes.  
  
– Huh. Wouldn't have picked you for the series follower.  
  
– Would you pick me for a guy who leaves the TV on while he has dinner and goes through work paper?  
  
– Right, that explains it.  
  
There was something I liked about Ryan. There just had to be. The thought of him did a great job at having me shrug and bring back unfortunate work-related memories, but as he sat dangerously close to me I didn't feel like repulsing him. And it wasn't just my downstairs parts talking – I was actually enjoying the conversation. I couldn't put my finger on the reason and it was driving me crazy. But I could put the other doubt to rest. Yes, that was it, I could just ask him. I literally had nothing to lose.   
  
– What do you want, Ryan? With me, with... this? I can't be so you can get laid, cause you can get that somewhere else. And you've never been exactly fond of me.  
  
– This is... Refreshing – he started out. – I like challenges, always did. And I do like you, or else I wouldn't bother with this. What about you?  
  
 _Oh great, ball's back on my court_. And I had nowhere to run. How would I lie when I couldn't even come up with possible explanations myself?  
  
– Honestly, I have no idea – I retorted. – I can't read you at all, and that makes me so mad.  
  
– Maybe that's it.  
  
– What? – I inquired, confused.  
  
– The fact that you don't know what I'm about to do next is why you're attracted – he replied with a smirk. I just stared. Dammit, he was right. Not that I've had a lot of relationships, but out of the ones I did, I was left expecting a romance that would surprise me, sweep me off my feet, render me speechless, just like in the movies. All this built up expectation combined with my "superpower" of predicting the other one's next moves had me often unimpressed and wanting more. But maybe I didn't need more. Maybe what I needed was something completely different.  
  
– What are you gonna do next then?  
  
And then he closed the remaining distance, which wasn't much. His hand met the back of my head before his lips crashed into mine, and both things made me shiver. The kiss was soft and warm, and for the first time, I felt like his hands weren't roaming around, leading up to more. The kiss was great for itself, there were no further intentions. Of course, it did spark them in me, but I was left feeling that wasn't the point. That was probably our first kiss where I didn't open my eyes right away after pulling back.  
  
– Well... that was pretty expectable – I concluded.  
  
– The action maybe, but now how you liked it.  
  
– Oh really?  
  
– Yep. You expected it to be just hot, not... Involving. Or whatever you wanna call it. Point is... You're impressed.  
  
His body was fully turned my way, while mine was trying to escape as I once more looked for answers I didn't have. Yes, alright, I wanted something different, but unplanned like this? And with the guy I used to completely hate? All of that made no sense, but the cherry on top was how quickly my mind dismissed all of that after such little time of him casting his spell on me.  
  
And so it happened again – that didn't really need saying, did it? The anxiety of not fully understanding the reasons that led me there was still very present, but there was a certain sense of relief brought by Ryan's words. They came back to me every now and then, like my brain kept trying to retain the information. As I watched the night outside through the window, however, I let myself get lost in random thoughts about the New York City skylight, as I lied on Ryan's chest.  
  
– Do you wanna be friends with benefits?  
  
– Would we need rules? – I turned to him as a reflex, before even considering what he had proposed.  
  
– Not really. Just keep up what we're doing, mostly.  
  
– But by definition, wouldn't we need to be friends for this?  
  
– Hey, call it what you want. I just want to officially be able to come around and have sex with you – Ryan grinned.  
  
– How romantic – I laughed as he wrapped one arm around me and peaked up to me for another kiss.


End file.
